


but it sure would be prettier with you

by zuzuzuuu



Series: world's greatest first love [1]
Category: UNIQ (Band)
Genre: M/M, just a little bit too cheesy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 04:49:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6839749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zuzuzuuu/pseuds/zuzuzuuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Wenhan will suddenly hug Yibo. Suddenly, the two of them will hug” – Yixuan (<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MJTepV7nJQo">2:19 - 2:30</a>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	but it sure would be prettier with you

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the above quote from yixuan and the time yibo reunited with the rest of uniq after his Shanghai movie filming. Although yixuan probably just wanted to tease them. The following is completely fictitious.

Yibo secretly swaps keycards with Sungjoo when Wenhan isn’t looking. The long-time roommate (but then again, Yibo’s been roommates for longer) takes the card with little surprise, only looking up from it to shoot him a smile and a quick arm-hug. “We missed you,” Sungjoo says, shamelessly honest as always. “Good to have you back.”

“Good to be back.” Yibo nods. His eyes drift over to where Wenhan is waiting for the hotel lift with Yixuan and the staff, head down. He looks tired, zoning out at the marble flooring, and Yibo reminds himself to relax his fingers so that the keycard doesn’t cut into his palm. He has to physically swallow down the urge to run over immediately and check on Wenhan. Sungjoo follows his gaze and pats him on the back with a knowing smile, before ambling off to find Seungyoun. At times like this, he’s grateful for Sungjoo’s perceptivity.

Yibo waits outside the hotel room until he’s sure that Wenhan has gone into the shower. Then he slides open the door as soundlessly as possible. The luggage isn’t even unpacked yet, but Wenhan’s plushie already claims the bed nearest to the bathroom. Yibo sits down next to it, careful to avoid touching the inside of the blanket with the clothes that he’s been wearing since this morning, because Wenhan doesn’t like it.

The steady sound of falling water puts him at an ease that he hasn’t felt in days. He hadn’t realized that he’d gotten so used to random touches and ridiculous banter, until he was alone in a big city with no Seungyoun to battle, no Yixuan to taunt, no Sungjoo to snort at. More importantly, there wasn’t Wenhan to poke fun at, nor sleepy-eyed Wenhan to shake awake, or Wenhan pulling him into a hug for no reason whatsoever. Always, Wenhan is the one to initiate the contact. But in these few days away he’d learnt: those fleeting brushes against the back of his hand, holding on to thighs, pressing the lines of their bodies close – these are the things that ground him, a discharge outlet for the excess energy that flashes through him.

Yibo is absently fiddling with the plushie’s ears when the shower turns off. He stares at the plushie’s eyes like it’s the female lead in the movie. _In five seconds_ , he tells it silently, _he’s going to walk out. But how do I say -?_

“Yibo?”

Wenhan stares at him from the doorway of the shower, towel round his neck. It’s that confused expression that Yibo really likes, as if he can’t process that it’s not Sungjoo sitting on his bed. Yibo reverently sets the soft toy aside and stands up.

“Ge,” he greets. Wenhan stands still, not moving. The air-conditioning whirs. Yibo ducks his head and shuffles his feet, a little self-conscious at Wenhan’s silence. Suddenly, the sound of Wenhan crossing the carpet makes him look up. In seconds, Wenhan launches himself into Yibo, wrapping his arms around his neck.

Immediately Yibo raises his own hands to return the hug. Wenhan hasn’t grown that much since the first time he met him, but Yibo has. He’s the big one now, taller, and it means Yibo can lend his shoulder to Wenhan’s cheek, warm from the shower.

“Miss me?” Yibo says softly.

“No,” Wenhan says, but his arms tighten. Then, quietly, “Yes,” muffled into Yibo’s shoulder blade.

He grins, even though no one is there to see it. “Missed you too.”

They stand like that for what seems like the longest and the shortest time. Then Wenhan pulls away to look at him, saying, “Look at you, you got fat. Eat too well?”

“What about your eyebags,” Yibo retorts. “What were you doing instead of sleeping?” His hands still linger on Wenhan’s waist.

“Definitely not thinking of you,” Wenhan says, and then he dives back in for another hug.

Yibo laughs. Then he walks the both of them backward until the edge of the bed knocks into the back of his knees, and they fall onto the bed with a tangle of limbs. “You’re heavy,” he tells Wenhan, who looks up in alarm that he might be hurting Yibo, before scowling at Yibo’s amused face. He burrows into Yibo with a vengeance.

“Are you going to let go anytime soon?” he asks when Wenhan seems to have no intention of loosening his grip. His damp hair is soaking the front of Yibo’s shirt, smelling like generic hotel shampoo, yet Wenhan smells especially good to him. Every part of Wenhan is especially good to Yibo.

“No,” Wenhan mumbles. “The first one was only ten percent.”

“Ten percent,” Yibo says.

Wenhan nods, rustling Yibo’s tee. “I’m recharging.” And he squeezes a little tighter.

Yibo ponders this, examining the soft curl of Wenhan’s upper lip. “Energizer bunny,” he decides.

“I’m not a bunny,” Wenhan insists, frowning. “Bunnies are cute.”

“Shh, Duracell,” he replies, one hand leaving the small of Wenhan’s back to push his fringe away from sticking to his forehead. “I’m transferring my energy to you.”

Wenhan grabs his hand and interlaces their fingers. “The energy flows faster this way,” he explains, and oh, Yibo has missed this. The mischievous grin pulling up Wenhan’s cheekbones into apples, eyes alight. He finds himself smiling back so hard that his own cheeks hurt.

“Whatever you say, ge.” Yibo squeezes his hand like the game children played, passing the jolt of electricity from one end to the other. Then at Wenhan’s request he spends the next hour recounting his filming experience, until eventually Wenhan’s eyelids droop and his breathing evens. Gently, so as to not wake him up, Yibo shifts to flip the lights off with his free hand. In the darkness, the one sensation that he can feel is the warmth around his fingers. Yibo falls asleep to the thought of currents flowing back and forth, a closed circuit of quiet words and loud actions, their linked hands between them.

**Author's Note:**

> cross-posted from [aff](https://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/976167/1/world-s-first-love-uniq-wenhan-yibo-bohan)


End file.
